The Deluge

⒎ Anchorful, Anchorless

Chapter 7- Anchorful, Anchorless

“Stop it!” she squealed.

“Nevaaaarrr,” I growled as I went on assaulting her.

“I’m serious!” She was breathless.

I chuckled dramatically and kept her pinned.

“I’m-not-oh shit!-I’m not going to…” she tried to get out between bursts of laughter.

“Not going to what?” I asked her, stilling the movement of my hands on her body, but not removing them completely.

She paused to catch her breath as I watched, looming over her.

“Umm…” I could practically see the wheels spinning in her mind, “-uhh….” I shook my head, and started tickling her again.

“Mercy!” she cried out squirming fitfully into the couch. “Mercy milord!”

“Not till you get my dose of justice for stealing my beverage you saucy wench!”

She gasped with silent laughter as my hands skimmed over her stomach. I felt my face dissolve into a triumphant, savouring grin as she tried her best to get away.

This was honestly the best thing ever. It was even cuter when she tried to retaliate, albeit a bit unsuccessfully.

“Seriously just stop!” she cried out, “you’re hurting me!” a note of fear seeped into her voice.

I paid her theatrics no heed; she had used this trick one too many times. This time, I’d get her good.

I relished the feel of her body wriggling under my fingers. I started laughing as her face got redder and redder under the strain. Oh lord, this was golden!

I moved to claim her feet as the next potential location for attack. She fell back onto the cushions, panting, trying to make the most of my momentary respite. My fingers moved up and down the soles of her feet before advancing to her knees-“No!” she shrieked before her voice was swallowed with fits of laughter.

Woah boy, she was getting a tad bit handsy here wasn’t she?

I narrowly dodged a kick to my face, and scowled. Her whole body was convulsing with laughter, tears were running down her cheeks- it was time to deliver the fatal blow.

I leaned back, with a smirk upon my face, my voice lowered to a seductive tone, “You like my hands-“

There was a loud crack as skin connected with skin and my head shot to the side; mouth opening in surprise from the force of the slap.

My hands dropped from her waist as I gaped at her; my cheek was turning numb. The whole left side of my face heated up. I fell back completely, staring at her, slightly stunned.

“Wha-”

She glanced at me, taking advantage of my retreat, straightening her clothes. Then she took a double take and her eyes widened with horror. Her hands shot up to her mouth “Omigosh I’m so sorry I didn’t mean to!”

She scrambled towards me, a frantic look upon her face.

“You slapped me.” I stated dully, still in shock. The part of my brain that was not paralysed, that wasn’t weighed down by each passing second, wondered what my face looked like.

I put one hand to my cheek, it was cold against the warm skin. I hissed at the contact to sensitive skin, and withdrew my hand to see blood smeared across it.